


here there be dragons (though not really)

by bakamaze



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), GOT7, K-pop
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dom/sub, M/M, Magic, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-27
Updated: 2015-05-31
Packaged: 2018-03-09 07:37:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3241571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bakamaze/pseuds/bakamaze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life and times of mercenary band GOT7.</p><p>(a collection of fics set in a vague dragon age au)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. you try to run away / ot7, jb centric

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: i own nothing and no one. got7 do not spend their time fighting crime in exchange for money. at least i think.
> 
> i'm not even sure how this came to be, first i was harmlessly chatting with a friend about video games (battle couples!!!) and then suddenly i had a head full of ideas.
> 
> when i say this is vaguely a dragon age au i mean that i know in my head for example the members' classes and talents and specializations and stuff like that, but i haven't actually written anything down yet in a fic form. that'll probably change at some point.
> 
> tags will be added as i write more of this and the rating might change. probably not as cracky as it sounds at first?
> 
> dedicated to my lovely [miia](http://straightaheadfor4minutes.tumblr.com/) who helped me brainstorm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wishes don't always come true.

Sometimes, Jaebum wished for quiet.

 

There were moments, not too long ago, when he could've taken Jinyoung's hand, pulled him to whatever dingy little room they could afford and lie down on the bed, pressed close to Jinyoung.

 

He could've listened to the other's heartbeat, match his own breathing to the calm rhythm of Jinyoung's inhales and exhales and hear nothing else.

 

With Jinyoung, he didn't have to keep his guard up. They'd seen each other at their worst and at their best, and everything in between.

 

It was different, now.

 

* * *

 

”JB!” came a almost comically loud holler from somewhere behind him, ”what d'ya wanna eat?”

 

Jaebum turned slightly in his seat at the table they had claimed as theirs in the area you could, possibly, if you lied a little to yourself, call the dining area at the inn.

 

Kunpimook whipped his head around, black hair flipping into his eyes, looking from Yugyeom to Jaebum, and did his best impersonation of a puppy. It was good, Jaebum had to admit, but he knew what really lurked behind his round, brown eyes and pouting lips.

 

”The stew?” Kunpimook said, words ending with a hopeful lilt, ”please, hyung, we really wanna try it.”

 

Jaebum raised his eyebrow at the younger boy at the use of plural, and caught the slight shove Kunpimook served to Yugyeom's ribs with his sharp elbow.

 

Their youngest looked up from his book (The Lectures of First Enchanter Wenselus, by the looks of it), a frown marring his features and words prepared on his tongue, but the look Kunpimook was giving him apparently meant something to him.

 

Yugyeom sighed, and with restraint Jaebum was kind of proud of, didn't roll his eyes, but turned to Jaebum instead.

 

”Yes, hyung, please,” he said with a sweet smile and turned back to his book. Kunpimook gave Jaebum a triumphant grin.

 

”The stew,” Jaebum called back to Jackson who was giving their order to the waitress behind the counter. ”And get a loaf of bread!”

 

Jaebum paused for a beat.

 

”And nothing else,” he addressed Mark who was at the counter with Jackson. All he got in response was a lopsided smile.

 

He glanced to his right, where Jinyoung was sitting and saw him smiling at him, eyes crinkled at the corners and tongue between his teeth. Jaebum debated between smiling back or smacking Jinyoung.

 

He knew he had made the right choice when Jinyoung's eyebrows shot up and his mouth slackened in surprise.

 

Jaebum let his smile soften even more before looking to Youngjae sitting opposite him.

 

Youngjae was poking morosely at the bandage around his left hand, the cuff of his shirt was still a bit bloody. Jaebum reached over to stop him from unwinding the protective cloth.

 

The younger one looked up and Jaebum quietly shook his head.

 

”You know, Yugyeom is not bandaging that again if you somehow manage to screw it up,” Kunpimook announced imperiously, tilting his head and staring at Youngjae's right hand still hovering over his left.

 

Yugyeom looked up from his book again, glancing first at Kunpimook and then at Youngjae, ”I would.”

 

That made the corner of Youngjae's mouth lift up.

 

”Thank you, Yugyeom.”

 

Kunpimook let out a huff and crossed his arms over his chest. Then he was off, chattering a mile a minute at Yugyeom, who looked more amused than anything else and somehow Youngjae got dragged into the heated debate about proper procedures following a battle and how to appreciate a friend's help.

 

At least it was heated on Kunpimook's part.

 

Jinyoung nudged Jaebum's leg with his to get his attention.

 

He murmured just loud enough for Jaebum to hear over the noise of the inn, ”it wasn't your fault.”

 

Jaebum may have forgotten how to breathe for a moment. He eyed the serious look on Jinyoung's face and bit his lip.

 

He didn't get the chance to respond before Jackson and Mark were back at their table, one carrying a pot of stew and the other a big loaf of bread. The waitress was behind them to set down bowls and cutlery.

 

They sat down next to Youngjae, Jackson immeadiately drawn in to the debate that had somehow evolved from Youngjae's bandaged hand to the pros and cons of poultices and Mark silently distributed the bowls and spoons.

 

It was kind of incredible how loudly Kunpimook and Jackson could talk, even while stuffing their faces.

 

To Jaebum's eternal dismay, Jinyoung decided to weigh in his opinion, because now the topic had changed to professions, and Kunpimook was declaring his rogue training to be superior to a warrior's.

 

Jackson and Youngjae were protesting this, so of course Jinyoung had to fan the flames of the fire and point out that obviously they were all wrong, the one true fighting style was dual-wielding daggers.

 

Mark smirked and held his hand up over the table to receive the high-five Jinyoung bestowed upon him, which then caused Jackson to gape at Mark, eyes dramatically wide because of the perceived betrayal.

 

This started another round of arguments. Jaebum just hunched down over his bowl and continued eating the stew, which was fortunately quite delicious. He did startle a bit when he heard Yugyeom clear his throat.

 

”You would all be dead without me.”

 

There was a moment of silence. Jaebum didn't dare hope it'd last.

 

Jackson's mouth was already open to deliver a retort, but then he frowned in thought and wisely decided against arguing with their healer. He shrugged, stole a piece of bread from Youngjae (”hyung!”) and returned to his meal like they hadn't been almost shouting at each other for the last ten minutes.

 

Jaebum resisted the urge to sigh and instead gave a piece of his bread to Youngjae, noting the grateful smile that earned him and he tucked it safely into his memory.

 

”Why don't I get food from you?” Jackson whined, a pout on his lips. Jaebum decided to not grace the question with an answer and he didn't need to, because Mark was there for him like a proper underling.

 

”You don't deserve any more food,” he said, kicking Jackson's calf under the table. The pout was replaced by an overly wounded look.

 

”Ah, my Mark, you're so cruel,” Jackson sighed and in place of sympathy it earned him a surprised laugh from Mark. The pleased look in Jackson's eyes probably meant he didn't mind, no matter how much he acted like he'd just been scorned.

 

* * *

 

Because they'd been forced to save on their accomodations (thank you for that, Jackson), they were packed into one room. It was a bit on the small side, but they made it work anyway.

 

Jaebum was lying down on his back on the blanket he'd spread out on the floor, eyes closed and trying to fall asleep.

 

Youngjae was already off in dreamland, occasionally muttering something in his sleep and Jaebum could hear Jackson whispering to Mark even though he couldn't make out the words. Mark would periodically hum in agreement or let out a quiet huff of laughter.

 

Kunpimook or Yugyeom was tossing and turning on the bed the older ones had graciously decided to give to the two youngest before there was a put upon sigh.

 

”Yugyeom, you're stealing the blanket,” Kunpimook said, voice sleepy.

 

”Then come closer, idiot,” Yugyeom replied, even though he sounded like he was still at least half-asleep.

 

At the rustling sound next to him, Jaebum cracked his eyes open slightly to see Jinyoung settling down on the blanket beside him.

 

Noticing Jaebum watching him, Jinyoung smiled and crowded closer. He slipped his hand into Jaebum's and burrowed his face into Jaebum's shoulder, breath warm through the fabric of his shirt.

 

Jaebum listened to Jinyoung's breathing, to the sound of Jackson's voice still carrying across the room, and the random words or sentences Youngjae would say. He listened to the quiet snuffling that came from the bed where Yugyeom and Kunpimook were now huddled under one blanket.

 

He squeezed Jinyoung's hand gently.

 

Sometimes, Jaebum wished for quiet.

 

But it was only sometimes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and feedback are always appreciated :3


	2. setting us in stone / markson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jackson's training is rudely interrupted.

Jackson feels a bit disgusting. His short-sleeved shirt is sticking to his back and chest, his hair is disheveled and sweaty, his legs and arms are aching and his grip on the pommel of his greatsword is slippery.

 

He'd definitely say that he doesn't look his best at the moment.

 

He's standing on an abandoned field, close where Jaebum had decided to camp because it was near a water source, in front of a run-down scarecrow. It's annoyingly tall, almost as tall as Yugyeom. Jackson glares at the scarecrow harder.

 

He rolls his shoulders and adjusts his stance, breathing deep. The dried grass crunches under the soles of his feet as prepares to take another swing at the wooden arms when someone clears their throat behind him, making him jump and almost drop his sword.

 

Jackson faces whoever it is behind him fast enough, sword ready and ignores the fact that his heart might be trying to make its escape through his rib cage.

 

His pulse does not exactly slow when he realises that the person behind him is Mark, holding a pitcher of water, hair illuminated by the light from the setting sun.

 

”Hey, I could've hurt you,” Jackson says, voice apprehensive. He relaxes his stance and sticks the sword into the soft earth next to him, gaze fixed on Mark's face as he rolls his eyes.

 

”Really?” Mark asks, as if it is a genuine question and not a dig at Jackson's abilities, ”I think you wouldn't have even noticed me there unless I made my presence known.”

 

Mark walks closer and Jackson almost backs away, suspicious, but in the end he holds his ground. Even when the other boy pokes him unnecessarily hard in the chest.

 

”I think,” he continues, ignoring Jackson's yelp of pain and the very sad and completely justified look he's given, ”I could've taken you out so fast that you wouldn't have even had time to notice anything happening.”

 

Jackson rubs at the spot on his chest that Mark prodded, pursing his lips and frowning at the ground.

 

He doesn't say; It's not my fault that your presence doesn't register as a threat. It's not my fault that your presence near me feels natural. It's not my fault that instead of making me alert, your presence makes me feel safe.

 

He doesn't say; It's not my fault you feel like home.

 

”No way,” Jackson declares, lifting his eyes back to Mark's face, before the things he's thinking get a chance to bust through the dam he's built between his brain and mouth.

 

”No way in hell, I could totally take you, doesn't matter if you got the drop on me,” he shakes his head and feels conflicted when Mark just looks even more amused.

 

On one hand, amusing Mark might be one of Jackson's favourite past times, but on the other, who is Mark to question the superiority of Jackson's skills?

 

”Sure, whatever helps you sleep better at night,” Mark smirks, that bastard, and hands him the pitcher he's holding.

 

Jackson takes it but glowers at Mark to make it known that he does not agree. His grudge is forgotten soon, however, when he drinks down the water. It's still cold and it soothes his parched throat.

 

When he's done drinking, he dumps the rest of the water on his head, washing away the sweat and cooling down his body. He turns slightly away from Mark to shake off most of the water in his hair and then pushes it off his forehead with a satisfied sigh.

 

His skin prickles and he looks back at Mark, whose eyes are intent on him. His expression is something completely different than before and Jackson doesn't quite know what to do with it, so he does what he usually does in situations like these.

 

”What? Why are you staring? Am I that handsome?” he asks, corners of his mouth twitching up, almost mockingly, though he isn't sure who he's mocking.

 

Mark stays quiet for almost uncomfortably long before taking a step closer to Jackson.

 

”Mm,” he nods his head, looking Jackson straight in the eyes, and just what in the world is Jackson supposed to do with _this_.

 

”I'm... what?” Jackson's voice does not come out as steady as he would've liked, but he blames it on the fact that he might have some trouble breathing.

 

Mark gets even closer and lifts his hands to rest on either side of Jackson's neck and the cooling effect of the water is definitely wearing off way too fast and there's something sly in the way Mark's eyes travel across his face and finally settle on his lips.

 

”You're handsome,” Mark breathes against his mouth like a secret and Jackson doesn't even have a moment to celebrate that before he's being kissed, soft lips against his.

 

There's a gasp trying to claw its way out of his throat but Jackson swallows it down. He swallows it down and kisses Mark back, his hands automatically drifting up to Mark's waist where he can take a hold of the fabric of his shirt.

 

Jackson feels a bit like he's been stunned and his heart is pounding and Mark definitely knows because his thumbs are resting under Jackson's jaw, right over the pulse points but he doesn't really have the willpower to be embarrassed.

 

He tilts his head to deepen the kiss and feels Mark huff and his lips shift, like he's smiling. Jackson crowds closer, as close as he can get without actually being in Mark's skin and nips at the other's lower lip.

 

Jackson shivers when Mark licks at his lips and smiles into the kiss when Mark hums, sound vibrating between them.

 

He doesn't know how long the kiss lasts, it feels like a lifetime and a second at the same time, but he's grinning giddily when they pull apart, his forehead resting against Mark's.

 

There's a pleasant tingle down his spine starting from the nape of his neck where Mark's nails are slightly digging in and it travels down to his toes.

 

The older boy pulls away first and takes in the grin playing on Jackson's lips. His face softens for a moment before he steps out of Jackson's personal space, Jackson slowly opening his fists and letting go of Mark's shirt.

 

Mark just looks at him for a second before he let's his own mouth curl up in an impish smile.

 

”Not that handsome, though,” he says, entirely too pleased with himself as he turns and strolls away.

 

Jackson's cheeks hurt from smiling.

 

”You think I'm handsome!” he shouts after Mark, who just flips him off without looking back.

 

”Remember to bring back the pitcher when you're done!” Mark calls out, already at the edge of the field.

 

Jackson glances at the ground next to his feet to see the wooden pitcher resting on the yellowed grass. He doesn't admit to blushing when he realises that he doesn't recall dropping the thing in the first place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and feedback are always appreciated :3


	3. draw me into you / jb/jr

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaebum's magic is unique, but Jinyoung might be slightly biased.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay ~magic~! you have [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O4H7P1urGUc) song to blame and also my fascination with magic and... things....
> 
> and please note the rating change! stuff happens in this part hahah
> 
> nothing is beta read so i apologise in advance

There were quite a few things that Jinyoung could say he recognised immediately. His mother's hand on the top of his head, the smell of his favourite food cooking, the look on Youngjae's face when he was about to do something ridiculous. And if given a hundred daggers to try, he was confident he could pick out his own pair out by touch alone.

 

This sensation, the feeling that someone had enveloped him in something a little hot and soft, the goosebumps he got. The way his heart started to beat just a bit faster.

 

This was what Jinyoung felt when Jaebum was doing magic.

 

Granted, on the battlefield, with adrenaline rushing through his blood and eyes tracking the enemies, it made him fight harder, it made his grin wider and more dangerous because the people they were fighting, they were so screwed.

 

Jaebum's smile and the flash in his eyes, like lightning in the clear blue sky.

 

Like this, though, with just the two of them left at camp while the others were in the nearby village gathering rumours and food, it was different, intimate.

  
  
It was like a lover's caress on his skin, fingertips on his lips, a warm breath against his neck.

  
  
Jinyoung bit the inside of his cheek, an almost violent shiver wrecking his body, making his hands shake so much that he had to set his dagger and sharpening kit down.

  
  
He took a few deep breaths, eyes closed, willing himself to calm down. It worked to an extent, but he still felt as if he wanted to crawl out of his own skin.

  
  
Looking from his still slightly trembling hands to his daggers, he sat by the camp for a while, leg bouncing, gnawing on his lower lip.

  
  
When he finally stood up, it might've been with more force than necessary, but he hadn't been so sure his muscles would actually obey him. He moved the weapons back to their sheaths and placed them and the sharpening kit neatly by his pack before figuring out which way the feeling was pulling him.

  
  
Jinyoung had asked the others about this, if they felt Jaebum's magic like he did. He had done it subtly of course, and downplayed the effect it had on him.

  
  
Kunpimook and Youngjae had both said that they felt a very faint prickling on their skin when they were near Jaebum and he was performing a spell. Mark had taken a bit longer to answer but he had finally informed Jinyoung that it was kind of like pins and needles, but pleasant.

  
  
Jackson's reply had involved a lot of hand gestures as he tried to explain how the drawing of mana interacted with people and things surrounding a mage. Jackson wasn't very good at explaining, however, and Jinyoung hadn't understood most of it, but he appreciated the effort nonetheless.

  
  
Yugyeom had just looked at him, straight in the eyes and raised his eyebrow. Jinyoung had refused to suffer such blatant disrespect from someone younger than him and hit him upside the head, softer than he had wanted to.

  
  
A snort and a way too amused ”whatever, hyung” had been the response he had gotten.

  
  
So it seemed like he was the only one who felt it like this, like there was a hook in his belly, a beacon beckoning him closer.

  
  
Jinyoung concentrated, fingers twitching, before deciding on walking the forest's edge. It probably wasn't the wisest move to leave their camp unattended, but he had never claimed to be wise, and it wasn't like there would be many people walking around outside the village this time of the evening. The others would be back soon, anyway.

  
  
The sensation kept growing stronger and by the time he saw Jaebum, Jinyoung was practically shaking again, breath coming out in short bursts.

  
  
Jaebum was sitting with his back to Jinyoung on a mat, cross-legged and with his forearms resting against his knees. His head was down and the low cut of his shirt collar revealed the nape of his neck and the first few bumps of his spine.

  
  
He stood there, spellbound and with his throat dry and just watched as Jaebum breathed, his shoulders moving calm and loose, completely relaxed as little sparks of electricity danced between his fingertips, violet and bright in the fading light.

  
  
”Jaebum?” Jinyoung called out. He managed to keep the quiver in his body out of his voice.

  
  
Jaebum lifted his head and took a deep breath. He gathered his magic close and bundled it back inside himself before turning to look at Jinyoung. If Jinyoung didn't know better, he'd say the mage had just woken up. His eyes were half-lidded and lips were parted. Jinyoung wanted to kiss him.

  
  
Jaebum smiled, slow and deliberate in a way that told Jinyoung that the other one was completely aware of what Jinyoung was thinking.

  
  
He twisted his upper body slightly and lifted his hand toward Jinyoung, fingers curling into his palm, ”come here, Jinyoung.”

  
  
Jaebum's voice sounded rough. Jinyoung went to him, circled around so he was in front of Jaebum, the other's eyes on him the whole way, heavy like a physical touch.

 

He smiled up at Jinyoung, still not looking away, both hands in his lap. Jinyoung lowered himself to his knees on the mat, legs almost burshing Jaebum's.

  
  
His heart was beating so hard he could feel it in his throat, a steady  _thump, thump, thump_ in his ears. He licked his lips as Jaebum reached for his hand and he gave it willingly, hissing when he felt a small shock where Jaebum's fingers curled around his.

  
  
Jinyoung wasn't at all prepared when after a soft ”sorry,” Jaebum brought Jinyoung's hand to his lips and kissed the spot where his magic had accidentally touched Jinyoung.

  
  
He let out a choked noise when Jaebum smiled playfully and licked the place he had kissed.

  
  
”That's not fair,” he said breathlessly, digging his short nails in on Jaebum's hand in warning. Jinyoung watched as Jaebum's eyes crinkled into crescents.

  
  
”Sorry,” he repeated. He didn't look apologetic at all.

  
  
Jaebum unfolded his legs and drew Jinyoung properly between them and Jinyoung felt tethered, by Jaebum's eyes and his touch, as if he was drifting on open sea and Jaebum was his anchor, the only point of contact in the world that mattered.

  
  
He wet his lips once and surged forward, catching Jaebum's mouth with his. He bit Jaebum's lower lip, turning the low chuckle that had been building in Jaebum's chest into a moan.

  
  
The hand that wasn't still tangled with Jaebum's moved to rest on the bare junction of his neck and shoulder. Jaebum's unoccupied hand snuck its way under Jinyoung's shirt, stroking slowly up his side before coming to a stop just under his rib cage, palm like a brand.

  
  
It seemed like Jinyoung hadn't kissed Jaebum properly in ages, even though it hadn't been that long. He needed to be closer. He needed to have everything and anything Jaebum was willing to give him.

  
  
His frustration manifested as a groan that disappeared in Jaebum's mouth. When the other one pulled his lips away from Jinyoung, he chased after them but stopped and opened his eyes when he felt the scratch of Jaebum's nails on his skin.

  
  
Jaebum was breathing hard like him, still close enough that Jinyoung could feel the breaths on his chin. His eyes were darker than normal and the redness of his lips was like a siren's call.

  
  
The fingers curled around his squeezed once before shifting to grip Jinyoung by the front of his shirt.

 

The mage lay down, his back on the mat and pulled Jinyoung with him effortlessly.

  
  
Hovering over Jaebum, who was blinking up at Jinyoung, he was sure he would never be fine again. His heart was going to stop and he was going to die right here and right now.

  
  
Jaebum tugged on his shirt, impatient, so Jinyoung had no other choice but to lean down and kiss him again, tongue slipping into Jaebum's mouth.

  
  
He was thorough, licking and sucking and biting in turns and was happy to let Jaebum retaliate.

  
  
Then Jaebum rolled his hips against Jinyoung's and Jinyoung's teeth caught the corner of the other's lip between them harder than necessary.

  
  
His head was swimming, his hands were clammy on the mat beside Jaebum's head and a sliver of uncertainty mixed in with his arousal.

  
  
With slight trouble he pulled away from Jaebum, who didn't look impressed with this development, but still, he let his head fall back, looking into Jinyoung's eyes. Jinyoung just breathed for a second.

  
  
”Are you sure?” he managed to ask.

  
  
Jaebum looked disbelieving before rolling his eyes fondly and answering in the affirmative.

  
  
Resisting Jaebum's hands that were tugging on him, trying to coax him back into a kiss, he asked again, ”here?”

  
  
”Yes,” Jaebum almost growled at him, his patience tried for the second time. Beneath the  _yes, now, please,_ was something longing, something Jinyoung knew, something breakable and infinitely precious. He allowed the hand on the back of his neck guide him back down, lips meeting. 

 

The way they kissed was unhurried, their sighs blending and Jinyoung could taste something on Jaebum's tongue. It reminded him of the air after a thunderstorm and he couldn't get enough.

 

Jaebum's hands wandered to Jinyoung's front, fingers deftly undoing the fastening of his pants.

 

"Take them off," Jaebum murmured, refusing to break the kiss properly. Jinyoung had to do it so he could let out the laugh that startled out of him. He gazed down at Jaebum, at his small frown, the one he got when he was annoyed at something.

 

"You really  _are_  impatient, aren't you," Jinyoung mused, eyes locked on Jaebum's.  The slight flicker in them was the only warning he got before Jaebum rolled his hips again, pressing himself against Jinyoung. To top it off, he threw his head back and moaned shamelessly.

 

 Jinyoung gave up on holding himself over Jaebum and let his weight come down on him, chest against chest, and buried his face in Jaebum's neck. Jaebum just rubbed against him again.

 

"Okay, your point's made," he got out, breaths coming out sharp on Jaebum's skin. Jinyoung felt the small laugh in Jaebum's chest before he heard it from his mouth.

 

Gathering his senses, Jinyoung forced himself up and off Jaebum momentarily. Jaebum's eyes on Jinyoung were practically consuming him and he had to resist the urge to just lean down and be consumed in a more literal sense.

 

He took hold of the hem of his shirt and pulled it off over his head before working his pants down his legs, underwear going with. Jinyoung knelt there, bare between Jaebum's legs and didn't feel self-conscious at all. They had used to be more shy, back when they had started, times like these spent giving furtive glances and their cheeks hot to the touch, learning and relearning each other's bodies.

 

Now Jinyoung felt powerful, letting Jaebum study him, his dark eyes traveling down his chest and back up. He managed not to preen.

 

Deciding he had let Jaebum's eyes linger long enough, Jinyoung opened the fastenings on the soft pants the other was wearing and with help from Jaebum, pulled them off.

 

Next his hands wandered under Jaebum's loose shirt, pushing it up and finally off. Jaebum glanced at where Jinyoung had carelessly tossed their clothes.

 

"If I end up with ants in my pants, I'm blaming you," he remarked offhandedly, the right side of his mouth tilted up. He reached out and wound his arms around Jinyoung's neck.

 

"Shut up," Jinyoung said, cheerful, and swallowed the  _make me_ Jaebum was sure to respond with from his lips. Jaebum was gracious enough to comply, even when Jinyoung moved from his mouth to his cheek and jaw, kissing and nipping his way to the spots he knew Jaebum liked the best. His hands roamed the landscape of Jaebum's body, the familiar dips and curves, the scars he had mapped out long ago and sworn to himself, silently, that they would be the first and last ones he'd come to know.

 

Jinyoung ached and he  _wanted,_ so badly that he was sure he would've come apart at the very seams of his being if he weren't being held together by the hitches in Jaebum's breathing and the grounding touch of his fingers on Jinyoung's neck.

 

He ground down against Jaebum, biting on his collarbone at the rush of pleasure that coursed through him. They weren't very vocal, used to thin walls and people on the other side of them, so Jinyoung stored every sigh and moan, whimper and gasp into his memory, with all the things he knew and loved about Jaebum.

 

"Let me--," Jaebum shifted and worked a hand into the almost non-existent space between their bodies, long fingers curling around them. He stroked up, twisting his hand and stared straight into Jinyoung's eyes. They both shuddered, breaths short against each others' mouths.

 

Jinyoung kissed Jaebum, once, twice, three times, just quick presses of their lips and moved with Jaebum, their bodies finding a natural rhythm the same way they did when fighting. It might have seemed instinctual if you didn't know the long hours they had spent working on their timing and flow, first just the two of them folding and unfolding, finding each other in the gaps of their own movements.

 

Jaebum's hand sped up, his eyes closed tight and mouth hot on Jinyoung's. Jaebum trembled under him, spilling over.

 

"Come on," he gasped, fingers still around Jinyoung, doing his best to take him over the edge.

 

"Jinyoung, please," Jaebum's voice was low and husky and Jinyoung was left defenseless. He hurtled after Jaebum, tremors rushing through his body from head to toe.

 

He rolled to his side carefully, head coming to rest next to Jaebum's, hand over the other's heart, tasting something like ozone on the back of his tongue. Jinyoung breathed in and out, in and out, and watched as Jaebum's chest started to rise and fall at the same time. 

 

Jaebum turned his head, slowly, like he didn't quite have the energy for it, and licked his lips, "you know, I think we'd better get back to camp."

 

He blinked at Jinyoung when he hummed in agreement but neither of them made a move to get up from the mat. Jinyoung felt so content, basking in the warmth of their bodies and having the permission to look at all of Jaebum's bared skin without someone wolf-whistling and making lewd comments.

 

A small smile graced Jaebum's lips, "they'll send out a search party at this rate, and I for one don't relish the thought of the others stumbling upon us like this," he gestured at himself.

 

Jinyoung couldn't resist grinning mischievously back, "and why not? I'm almost 90% sure they'd appreciate the free show."

 

Jaebum courteously wiped his hand on the mat before smacking him. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and feedback are always appreciated :3


	4. breaking out, closing in / ot7 (mark/jackson, jb/jr.)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes Jackson saves the day.

Yugyeom's energy shifts from biting cold to something gentle, a soft hue of blue surrounding him.

That's Jackson's first clue that something is still off, despite the numerous enemies lying on the ground. The second clue is the lingering sense of danger in the air, like something unseen is watching him.

As he wipes the sweat and grime off his forehead with the non-bloody part of his sleeve, he gets his third and final clue.

”Jaebum?” Jinyoung's voice sounds shaky, so unlike him, especially post-battle when everyone is still riding the rush of a victory and that finally makes Jackson's eyes seek out their leader.

He's hunched over like he's in pain, his staff lying on the ground. His body is trembling, in time with the discharges of the electricity he sheathes himself with during battle. The electricity forms miniature lightning bolts that strike the earth near Jaebum's feet, arcing threateningly towards Jinyoung who's trying to approach him.

”Don't,” Yugyeom says quietly but surprisingly firmly, hand on Jinyoung's elbow. Youngjae and Kunpimook are hovering behind their youngest, worry and confusion etched onto their features. Mark is standing with his back to Jaebum, cutting Jinyoung off from him.

There's another layer in Yugyeom's voice that probably only Jackson can hear. It's hidden beneath Yugyeom's own, authority ringing out from the spirit he has called forth. The emotions in his eyes swirl from concern to sympathy to frustration, because this isn't something Yugyeom can heal.

Technically there's nothing even wrong with Jaebum at the moment.

At the hurt gasp that escapes from behind Jaebum's gritted teeth, Jackson springs into action. He can see Jinyoung half-heartedly struggling in Yugyeom and Mark's grasp, but he blocks it out.

He blocks everything out, except the feeling of Jaebum's mana spiraling out of the mage's control and the sure and steady power rising inside himself.

Jackson thinks back to the battle, where at the end they had been almost overpowered by the reinforcements they hadn't known the bandits had had. 

He remembers Jaebum's warning shout to get away from the enemies, before he had cast a Lightning Cage to keep them in one place while Yugyeom and Kunpimook picked them off at range, the rest of them keeping watch should any of them get past the electric barrier.

He remembers the radius of the spell being much larger than normal to reach around the large number of enemies.

He remembers how exhausted they had all been before the arrival of the second wave of enemies, Yugyeom's soothing magic slowly trying to restore their stamina.

Jackson worries his lower lip, thinking about the best way to get Jaebum's magic back under control. It had obviously reacted to the huge amount of mana Jaebum had expended on that last spell, going haywire.

The sharp inhalations he hears behind him when he advances on Jaebum and the little bolts of lightning strike at him would've made him smile in any other situation. 

They try to shock him, to worm their way under his skin, but thanks to his training, they at most tickle.

He closes his eyes and furrows his brow in concentration, his own energy reaching out of him, intertwining with Jaebum's. It's spread out much farther than he had imagined, and tendrils slip from his grasp and batter at him, sensing only the threat of a templar near.

Sweat starts to trickle down the side of his face and he grits his teeth at the hostile magic trying to eliminate him.

Suddenly Jackson feels something like a cool breeze on a too hot summer day on his skin. He doesn't need more than a few seconds to recognise the familiar character of Yugyeom's magic. Where Jaebum's is mostly sharp angles and quick rises and falls, unpredictable in its tremendous power, Yugyeom's is smooth and unwavering, a slow crescendo into a big finale.

Jackson mentally notes that he owes Yugyeom for more than just that timely barrier in the battle. The Rejuvenate the healer had cast on him gives him the energy to capture and hold the bits of magic evading him.

He gathers the runaway magic up, tender, taking care not to tear at the edges. He straightens himself up, taking a deep breath, and rolls his shoulders back, bringing his hands together in front of him, as if holding the hilt of his sword.

With the release of his breath, he lets his energy roll out of him like a wave on a sea and it breaks on the opposing energy of Jaebum's magic, pushing it towards the leader. Jackson opens his eyes and follows in his own power's wake, closing the distance between him and Jaebum and comes to stand within arms reach.

Working in earnest now, he presses down on the magic struggling in his clasp, directing it slowly back into Jaebum.

Jaebum's moan starts a commotion behind him, the sound registering faintly through Jackson's concentration.

”What is he doing?!” he hears Jinyoung snarl and Jackson chances a peek at his pale face. Yugyeom and Mark are still holding him back, but keeping a furious Jinyoung in place is not an easy task.

Jinyoung tries to shake the others off him, eyes trained on Jackson and Jaebum.

”What is he doing to Jaebum?” there's a razor sharp edge in his voice, and if Jackson was more sensitive about things like this, it would cut quite deep. Mark's grip on Jinyoung's shoulder tightens.

”Jinyoung,” Mark says, a clear warning in his tone, ”trust him.”

”Trust us,” Yugyeom says, like it's a request and not a plea. There's steel in his eyes when he looks at Jinyoung.

Jinyoung settles down, still vibrating in his skin, and Jackson turns his attention back to Jaebum, sure now that Jinyoung will let him do what's necessary.

He closes his eyes and visualises wrapping Jaebum's magic around him and smoothing out the cracks and sharp edges, working through knots and tangles. 

Jackson senses it, when the agitated magic finally calms down and gives in. He doesn't know how long he's been at it when it retreats into Jaebum's body, making the static in the air around them disappear.

He breaks Jaebum's fall, catching him and lowering himself onto the ground with him, and lets the other's head rest on his shoulder. The muscles in Jaebum's back are shaking from the effort it had taken to keep the majority of the magic from getting loose.

”Thank you,” Jaebum breathes out, hands weakly holding onto Jackson.

”You're welcome,” he manages to reply quietly, before they're surrounded by the others, Jinyoung rushing to Jaebum's side.

Mark comes to stand right next to Jackson and grips his unoccupied shoulder. Jackson smiles up at him, and bumps his head against the older one's thigh.

Kunpimook and Youngjae are kneeling down too, identical expressions of relief and worry on their faces, hands hovering uncertainly.

Yugyeom might be the only one who doesn't look at all anxious, and the blue aura surrounding him fades away slowly. 

”Hyung,” Youngjae starts, unsure, ”are you okay?”

Jaebum hums, nodding as Jackson shifts and lets Jinyoung take his place. Their leader adjusts his position to get closer to Jinyoung and buries his face into his neck.

Jackson stands up, Mark's hand sliding down from his shoulder to wrap around his hand.

He catches the grateful look Jinyoung shoots him and shakes his head slightly to convey it's nothing. 

They stay there for a while, all seven of them quiet, uncaring that they're in the middle of a battlefield with blood and dirt on their clothes and in their hair.

They stay there, let the tension drain from their bodies and watch over their leader.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and feedback are always appreciated :3


	5. love, give me love / markson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are ways to keep Jackson quiet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hhhAHAHHA oh man........ ok....... this has been sitting on my computer for 4 months because every time i went and tried to read it over i couldn't... oops.
> 
> i blame everything on [miia](http://straightaheadfor4minutes.tumblr.com/), all of it, 110% her fault, with this i descend (ascend???) from vague porn to actual explicit porn OTL
> 
> it's probably very rushed and... yeah markson d/s sex lets go, i'm off to hide in a dumpster or smth

Even after winning enough sovereigns to cover the cost of food for the next week or so, Mark kept playing, nodding his head when the dealer looked over to him questioningly.

The game of Wicked Grace had been going exceptionally well and Mark had won two rounds in succession. Now he just needed to win this one and he'd have the extra money a room would cost him.

Mark felt the other players' eyes on him, staring over their cards, looking for any sign of weakness, any tell that would tip them off. He flicked his eyes over them in return and kept his face carefully blank.

Half an hour or so later, Mark set his cards down, cheering internally. His fellow players scoffed or rolled their eyes but paid up and Mark gathered the coins from the worn surface of the table into a pouch.

He hefted the weight of the little bag on his hand and got up, eyes scanning over the people in the tavern, seeking out the others of his group.

It was easy, in the end.

Jackson's whole existence was loud. The way he talked, hands gesturing wildly and voice boisterous, recounting tale after tale to entertain. The way his relatively small body took up more space than one would think, the sheer energy pouring forth from him making him seem bigger than he was.

There was something that drew people to Jackson, a warmth that was hard to find, like a campfire on a cold night when your breath came out in billowing white clouds.

Mark walked over and quietly sat down next to Jackson at the table, smiling back when Jackson shot him a brilliant grin before going back to amusing his riveted crowd consisting of Youngjae and Kunpimook.

He listened absent-mindedly to the story, something about a varghest and a porcupine. It looked like Yugyeom was nearly asleep on Jinyoung's shoulder who was having a hushed conversation with Jaebum. Mark decided to cut in momentarily.

”Do you mind if I get a separate room tonight?” he asked, leaning forward so Jaebum and Jinyoung could hear him over the noise of the tavern.

Jackson twitched next to him, a tiny movement of his body that Mark felt all the way deep inside his chest. He continued talking like he hadn't heard anything.

Jaebum shrugged, ”go ahead.”

The sudden motion of Jinyoung's shoulders shaking with a chuckle made Yugyeom grumble. Mark gave him a look that he hoped spoke for him. Jinyoung lifted his hand and mimicked zipping his mouth shut.

Mark settled into his seat, giving himself the permission to get lost in the rises and falls of Jackson's voice, not really listening to the words. He waited until Jackson was done telling Youngjae and Kunpimook whatever story had them so engrossed before nudging the other's thigh with his knee. Jackson turned his head, eyebrows raised in question.

From the way his eyes darkened Mark could tell that he had read the answer on Mark's own face.

”Right,” Jackson said, as if deciding something. He was about to get up, but Mark put a hand on his shoulder and Jackson settled back down. He swung his legs over the bench and stood.

”Just wait here,” he told Jackson, and looked to Jaebum, ”I can pay for your room while I'm there?”

The leader tossed his own pouch of coins to Mark over the table and Mark began to make his way to the innkeeper. He got them two rooms upstairs, haggling the price down from two sovereigns to one and half.

Mark returned to the others, handing Jaebum's pouch back to him with the key he had gotten for their room. It earned him a grateful smile.

”We're going to go ahead,” he helped Jackson up with a hand on his elbow, fingers curling around bone and muscle.

He didn't even glance at Jackson before they were upstairs and behind the safety of the door to their room. Mark turned the key in the lock and after hearing the tell-tale click of it engaging, finally let himself look.

Jackson was standing maybe a foot away, body tense like he was expecting a fight, lips bitten and breaths forcibly calm. His eyes were attentive on Mark's face, flickering up and down.

The parts of him that screamed look at me, I'm here, had all dialed down, turning into an intensity that only Mark saw. He could get close during battle, but this was something different.

Mark's shoulders were loose and his stance relaxed. The feeling that had been building behind his lungs, expanding and trying to get out since he had felt Jackson's body next to his downstairs was gone, spread out like water from a burst balloon.

”What's the word?” Mark asked, quiet voice carrying easily in the even quieter room. Jackson's shoulders dropped minutely and he licked his lips, eyes on Mark's mouth.

The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy. Mark waited, breathing calmly.

”Jackson,” he finally said, satisfied when Jackson's eyes snapped up from his mouth and to his own.

”You know we're not doing this if you don't tell me what you say if you want me to stop,” he told Jackson, not unkindly.

Jackson's intake of breath seemed to shake something loose in him, and the tension in his body disappeared. He wet his lips, dark eyes still holding Mark's.

”Lyrium,” he answered, voice steady.

”Lyrium,” Mark affirmed.

He smiled as he held out his hand to Jackson, who practically pounced on Mark, mouth melding over the other's and tongue immediately seeking entry.

His blood was roaring in his ears, the sounds Jackson was making only slightly louder. Mark opened his mouth, his own tongue slipping against Jackson's and lifted his hands to cradle Jackson's face.

He breathed through his nose, and tapped Jackson's jaw with his fingers. The other one slowed down, mouth becoming gentle against his and let Mark take control of the kiss. He couldn't help the surge of arousal that coursed through him.

Jackson's hands were warm on his waist, resting against the bones of Mark's hips as they kissed. He pushed slightly, making Mark take a step backwards so that his back was against the door.

Mark broke the kiss, Jackson's taste lingering, and raised an eyebrow at Jackson. He glanced away, a faint blush on his cheeks.

”I'm sorry,” he murmured, tilting his head back up and pecking Mark's lips. Mark caught Jackson's lower lip between his teeth, biting down slowly. He let go when Jackson breathed out a whine, stroking Jackson's cheekbones with his thumbs.

The hands on his waist moved lower to hover over the edge of his pants.

”Can I?” Jackson whispered.

”Can you what?” Mark inquired, voice low and rough. Jackson pressed his body against him, both of them obviously hard, and his eyes flicked down before meeting Mark's again.

”Can I suck you, please?” he asked, unashamed, and Mark let his head fall back and thunk against the wooden door behind him. He was amazed he hadn't choked on his own saliva.

He straightened his head, and slid his hands from Jackson's face to his shoulders. Jackson was completely still, waiting for permission.

”Yes,” Mark said and thrilled at the way Jackson smiled up at him, big and pleased.

He sank to his knees in front of Mark, eyes trailing down his body. Mark let his hands come rest in Jackson's hair, tangling his fingers in the dark locks.

Jackson focused on the task of opening Mark's pants, fingers quick and precise. He pushed them down just enough to reveal his hard cock. He glanced up at Mark, who just stroked a hand through Jackson's soft hair before gripping it.

”Go on,” it was both a reassurance and a command, and Jackson tipped his head forward and took Mark into his mouth.

Mark breathed out like he'd been punched in the gut, fist tightening in Jackson's hair at the feeling of the wet heat enveloping him. He shuddered when Jackson sucked, moving his mouth further along the shaft, careful of his teeth, eyes falling closed.

He pressed in, hands holding Jackson's head in place. It was easy, sliding almost all the way in.

Jackson moaned and pulled off, eyelids flickering before they opened. His lips were shining with spit and he stared straight into Mark's eyes when he lowered his head again, mouth stretching. He moved his head back and forth, gratification practically pouring out of him when Mark's breath hitched or he pulled on Jackson's hair.

Working slowly, Jackson breathed through his nose and stilled when the head of Mark's cock hit the back of his throat. Mark groaned, biting the inside of his cheek so hard that he tasted blood. The expectant look in Jackson's eyes changed and he swallowed around Mark, obviously happy when the other one groaned again, louder this time.

Then he pulled back slightly, tongue licking the underside of Mark's cock, eyes closing again, humming contentedly.

If Mark hadn't been looking down, he wouldn't have noticed Jackson's hands moving to press against the front of his pants.

”Hey,” he got out, voice coming out commanding. Jackson stopped, mouth pulling off Mark with an obscene, wet noise and looked up.

”None of that, hands behind your back,” Jackson let out a noise of complaint, but immediately shifted so one of his hands was holding his other wrist at the small of his back.

He nuzzled his face into Mark's stomach, breath warm through his shirt and slowly kissed his way down to Mark's cock, taking it back into his mouth after teasingly licking the side.

Jackson sucked earnestly, eyes intent on Mark's face.

The slick noises Jackson's mouth was making were almost deafening, the only thing Mark heard besides their laboured breathing and it just added to his arousal.

Mark tugged on Jackson's hair, and the other one reluctantly pulled back. He licked his swollen lips, waiting for Mark to say something.

”Get up,” he told Jackson, releasing his hold on the other one's hair, and watched, satisfied, when Jackson immediately stood in front of him.

Mark stepped around Jackson, shedding his shirt and stepping out of his boots and pants. He felt Jackson's eyes burning into his back and smiled to himself.

He leisurely set his clothes on a chair, placing his shoes next to it, before turning back to Jackson. He was standing where Mark had left him, hands still behind his back. Mark beckoned Jackson to him and he practically prowled forward, stopping within arms reach of Mark.

”Undress yourself and then lie down on the bed,” Mark instructed, heart hammering in his chest. Jackson's hands unclasped behind his back and he neatly undressed, revealing the smooth skin of his shoulders, the hair trailing down his stomach and his strong thighs.

Jackson was more muscled than Mark, bulky where Mark was more wiry, and it always amazed him, the way Jackson yielded under his touch, the way he was so eager to please even though he could've overpowered Mark quite easily if it came down to strength.

He moved to the bed and lay down on his back, head resting on the pillow, eyes never leaving Mark. He was biting his lips, chest rising and falling rapidly.

Nothing could compare to this. This trust Jackson had decided to bestow upon him, the way he placed himself, body and heart, in Mark's hands and just somehow knew what it had taken Mark months to realise, that he would cherish all of it until his dying day.

It was the greatest gift anyone had ever given him.

Before he could blurt it all out, he crawled over Jackson's body and kissed him, pressing his skin to Jackson's, licking his lips open and tangling his tongue with the other's.

Jackson could probably taste the desperation and all the things Mark didn't know how to say out loud, and it was like they were tearing out of his skin, flowing from his mouth into Jackson's.

Jackson hesitantly wrapped his arms around Mark's shoulders, breaking the kiss and bumping his nose against Mark's.

”What do you want me to do?” his eyes were as gentle as his voice and they both pulled at Mark. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, before opening his eyes again.

Jackson's eyes widened, pleased. Mark slid his hands to Jackson's arms, still loosely holding him close, and pressed them down onto the mattress.

”Keep your hands off me and yourself,” he ordered, squeezing Jackson's forearms. Jackson's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed.

”You don't come until I allow you to,” Mark added, delighting in the way Jackson shivered under him.

”Yes, sir,” Jackson replied, voice gruff, pupils nearly swallowing the brown of his eyes.

Mark sat up, settling himself in between Jackson's spread thighs, gaze sweeping over Jackson's body. He tilted his head, wondering where to begin.

At last he bent down, kissing the junction of Jackson's thigh and groin, smiling against the other's skin when he shivered again.

”It's only polite to return a favour, right?” he mused out loud, taking in a breath before swallowing Jackson's cock down, hands settling on his thighs. Jackson moaned, the muscles under Mark's hands bunching up before relaxing again.

Mark sucked when he pulled back, letting the tip of Jackson's cock rest against his tongue before working his way back down, opening his mouth wide.

Jackson's moan was louder this time, throaty, and it sent a tingle down Mark's spine. He glanced up and saw Jackson's hands gripping the bed sheets and rewarded him with a hard press of his nails against Jackson's skin.

There was a clatter from the room next to them, and familiar voices becoming louder.

Jackson's whole body froze, going rigid and Mark carefully pulled off him, licking his lips.

Jackson was looking at him, alarmed, breathing hard. Mark stroked his thigh and smiled down at him, a wicked edge creeping into the expression at the thought that emerged from the back of his mind.

He curled his fingers around Jackson's arousal, caressing slowly.

”Do you think you can be quiet?” he asked casually.

Jackson's cock twitched in his hand and Mark smirked. He reached to the drawer of the bedside table, pulling out a small vial of oil and setting it down next to Jackson.

”The others are right on the other side of that wall, you know,” he continued.

”So tell me, can you keep quiet?”

”Yes, sir,” Jackson answered, body trembling.

Mark tightened his grip on Jackson's cock and stroked, ”good. You can still tell me to stop at any point.”

Jackson nodded and Mark bent down to kiss him again, nipping at his lips before sucking the lower one into his mouth. Jackson kissed back, urgent, like he needed to drown all the sounds he wanted to make in Mark's mouth.

He stroked Jackson, his cock still slick with his saliva, and let Jackson take control of the kiss for a while. Mark's other hand trailed across Jackson's body, nails scratching red marks wherever they went, enjoying the quivers it earned.

Jackson rolled his hips, seeking more contact with Mark, determinedly keeping his mouth on the other's.

Mark deliberately pulled his mouth and hands away. Mark saw the way Jackson's jaw tightened to keep in the whimper that was no doubt trying to get out.

”You're doing good,” Mark praised, and Jackson's eyes met his, happy. He took the vial of oil from the mattress and popped the cork, pouring the thick liquid onto his fingers. He even managed to close it again before setting it back down.

His hand trailed down, and Jackson shifted his hips and bent his knees without being prompted. Mark kissed the inside of his thigh, teeth nipping lightly.

He pushed a finger in, eyes on Jackson's face. The other one bit down on his lip and tossed his head, squirming. Mark stroked his other hand down Jackson's leg soothingly.

He slowly worked his finger in and out, not minding that Jackson was moving his hips to the rhythm of his hand. He ignored his own arousal twisting his insides and instead applied himself on watching Jackson. He watched the sheen of sweat that was starting to glisten on his chest and forehead, his lips, bitten red, and face scrunched up in concentration and pleasure.

Mark added a second finger next to the first one, leaning his head against Jackson's knee. He distantly observed the way Jackson's hands convulsed around the sheets he was still holding.

Jackson tried to make Mark's hand speed up with his own movements and Mark pinched the skin of Jackson's stomach in warning with his unoccupied hand. He fidgeted but obeyed, half-lidded eyes meeting Mark's again.

He twisted his hand and found Jackson's prostate, judging from the way he suddenly clamped his mouth shut and spasmed. Mark stroked his fingers over the spot a few times, marveling at the way Jackson responded to him, before adding a third finger.

Jackson's cock was leaking precum onto his taut stomach and his head was thrown back. He was still shifting his hips smoothly to meet Mark's fingers, fucking himself onto them.

There was a flush that started on Jackson's chest and rose up his neck. Mark pressed his fingers against Jackson's prostate one last time before pulling them out.

He heard the whine that began in Jackson's throat, an aborted high noise that disappeared somewhere.

Jackson looked at him, feverish, blinking slowly.

”Hush, it's okay,” Mark assured, leaning down to kiss Jackson's cheek. Jackson turned his head to kiss him properly and Mark indulged him for a moment before breaking it off.

His hand found the vial of oil again, and it almost slipped out of his slick hand. He got the cork off and poured what remained onto his hand before tossing the container carelessly aside.

Jackson's eyes were on him, gaze sharpening into something hungry when Mark stroked his hand down his cock, spreading the oil on it.

He sat back on his haunches, moving his hand up and down his length slowly, putting on a show. Jackson's gaze intensified and his own cock jerked against his stomach, but otherwise he stayed completely still.

Finally his own impatience won over and he leaned in again, kissing Jackson and guiding his cock to Jackson's entrance.

He stayed there, just rubbing against Jackson, teasing both of them and softly laughed at the way Jackson wriggled under him.

When he started to push inside, Jackson's mouth opened around a soundless moan and Mark himself had to rest his forehead against Jackson's collarbone, breathing hard.

They shuddered together, every inch of Mark that dragged against Jackson's inner walls sending shocks of pleasure through their bodies.

Mark stilled once he was fully inside Jackson, breath hot and humid against Jackson's skin. He lifted his head and kissed Jackson's slack mouth, dipping his tongue in.

Jackson's breaths through his nose were sharp against Mark's cheek as he kissed back, head rising up off the pillow. He wrapped his legs around Mark's waist, trying to draw him in deeper and released a quiet moan into Mark's mouth.

Mark pulled his lips away from Jackson's, a warning in his tone, ”Jackson, hush.”

Jackson released a frustrated huff from his lungs, and reluctantly set his head back down on the pillow.

Mark stayed still, resisting the urge to rock into Jackson's body. There was something gratifying in the way Jackson's face contorted in disbelief when he realised what Mark was doing.

His body was pulled taut like the string on a bow, the muscles in his arms trembling, fingers holding onto the sheets. His cock kept twitching where it was resting against his abdomen, and his eyes were despairing on Mark's face. Sweat was trickling down from his hairline, making the locks stick to his forehead. He was gnawing on his lips, pleading with everything but words for Mark to move.

But Mark just waited, leaning his forehead against Jackson's. It was difficult for him, too, feeling the flutter of Jackson's muscles around him and watching Jackson's increasingly desperate face.

They stayed like that, bodies locked together, and time seemed to stretch around them. Finally the muscles in Jackson's body unclenched, becoming loose and pliant under Mark. His fingers released the fabric of the sheet and his bowed back touched the bed. His legs stopped squeezing around Mark, instead just resting there.

He released a long breath, like a sigh, and Mark pulled almost completely out of him.

If the thing that came out of Jackson's mouth had been a noise, it would've most definitely been a sob. But it was silent so it was just a rush of air against Mark's skin.

Mark pushed back in, slowly, so slowly that it was torture for him too. Jackson squeezed his eyes shut, biting his lip.

Mark fucked Jackson, rhythm nearly glacial. He stroked his hands through Jackson's hair, nails scratching his scalp and drank in all the almost-whines Jackson kept behind his teeth.

He leaned back and grabbed Jackson by the hips, speeding up slightly. Jackson cracked his eyes open slightly, staring at Mark like he saw right through him. Mark dug his nails into the skin over Jackson's hip bones.

Jackson gave a full-body shiver, but his eyes never left Mark's face.

Mark let his thrusts speed up, pushing against Jackson's prostate. He bent down to swallow Jackson's harsh breaths from his lips, open mouthed and filthy.

His orgasm built in the pit of his stomach, uncoiling. He wrapped a hand around Jackson's erection, stroking in time with his thrusts, spurring the other one on.

Jackson bit Mark's lip and when he let go, Mark whispered against his mouth, ”you can come now.”

Jackson shuddered and Mark felt his release on his fingers, and relished in the way Jackson tightened around him, clenching. Mark grunted as his own climax hit him and he buried his face in Jackson's sweaty neck.

It didn't take long until Mark pulled out of Jackson, who's spent beneath him, gaze heavy on Mark and he simply couldn't resist kissing him, adoration and love on his tongue. He stroked a hand through Jackson's hair, smiling when Jackson leaned into the touch, eyes closing.

”Wait here,” he said, hands lingering before he gathered enough willpower to get up and fetch a washcloth and the basin of water from the washroom. Jackson's eyes followed him when he moved and Mark knelt next to the bed.

He took the washcloth and dipped it into the lukewarm water, and wiped Jackson's sweat off his face and neck gently. He moved down to his chest and cleaned up Jackson's come before folding the cloth over itself.

He then wiped off the remains of himself from Jackson, hands careful and attentive when he moved Jackson on the bed, the younger one shifting obediently, still quiet.

Mark wiped himself down with the clean side of the cloth before taking the basin and cloth back to the washroom and returning to the bed.

He settled down next to Jackson after he tugged the blanket out from under him and pulled it over them, pressing close to Jackson.

”You did well,” he kissed Jackson's brow, the bridge of his nose.

”You did so well,” he trailed his lips down Jackson's cheeks, kissed his closed eyelids.

Mark smoothed his hands down Jackson's chest and his arms, rubbing circles into Jackson's palms.

”Good boy,” he breathed, and kissed Jackson's smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and feedback are always appreciated :3


End file.
